Friday Nights
by kara helen
Summary: Complete Mac's POV on a series of Friday nights. Takes place a couple of years in the future. I prefer to pretend the last season and a half never happened. HM... eventually. Main focus is Mac's friendship with a most unlikely person.
1. Dinner, Conversation and Confessions

Life Is a Curious Thing  
  
Summary: Mac hosts Friday night dinner for the JAG gang and learns some startling news. Takes place in the future. Pretend the last season and a half never happened. Mac POV  
  
Disclaimer: All I own is Ryleigh. CBS & DB own everyone else.

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It's Friday night and the gang's all here. Well, almost all here. Bud and Harriet are chatting with Sturgis and his wife while AJ checks the grill. I wipe my sweaty palms on a dish towel as the doorbell rings and curse myself for being so nervous. It's just another one of our weekly "family" dinners, I should be used to it by now. But I'm not. Even after two years it still hurts.  
  
'Will she or won't she? Will she or won't she?' is my silent mantra as I move towards the door and peer through the peephole, even though I already know who will be outside. For the past month she's been absent from our get-togethers. She claims she's always busiest this time of year, but I can't help but wonder if that's her true reason for skipping out. She's here.  
  
I open the door and find that it's not too difficult to paste a smile on my face as I welcome Harm and his wife Ryleigh into my home. Harm offers me a friendly greeting as he passes me to venture further inside.  
  
Ryleigh's own greeting is a little strained and out of character. I pause for a moment to give my friend the once over. Yes, I said friend. The diminutive redhead in front of me is brilliant, witty and one of the best friends I've ever had. We're like sisters. It's not her fault she's married to the man I love. I never told her, hell I never told anyone. Not even him. Sure I dropped subtle and not-so-subtle hints, but I never came out and said, 'Harm, I love you.' Now I never will.  
  
Instead of the usual affectionate hug I get from my psuedo-sister, all she does is awkwardly pat my shoulder. Now I'm intrigued. Dark shadows mar the delicate skin beneath her red-rimmed emerald eyes and she seems to be much thinner than I last remember. She reminds me of the girls on the Lifetime Channel. The ones with the eating disorders. What's happened to the energetic, vibrant woman I used to know?  
  
I walk with her back to where the others are waiting and watch as she hugs AJ, Bud, and Harriet then offers a smile to Sturgis and Velma. It seems that I am the only one she is alienating. To my amazement, Harm puts his arm around her shoulder and she casually shrugs it off. Maybe I'm not the only one.  
  
"Something smells good in here," Harm comments, seemingly unfazed by his wife's actions.  
  
Harm's comment reminds AJ of his work outside and the four men quickly rush to hover around the grill. I offer to get Ryleigh a drink but she shakes her head and says that she'll get it herself. I nod my head, still trying to figure out what I said or did to upset her. She emerges from the kitchen a few minutes later with a large glass of what appears to be iced tea. Harriet asks her what her plans are for the summer. A history professor at the Naval Academy, she uses her summer vacation to lecture at various colleges and special events. Her eyes light up as she discusses her schedule and I put aside my worry for the moment.  
  
Half and hour later, the men triumphantly emerge from the porch with a tray full of steaming food. Velma helps me set the table while Harriet and Ryleigh bring out the food from the kitchen. Seconds later everyone is seated around the table. I inwardly smile in relief that there is an even number. I hate being the odd man out. AJ and I are the only singles at the table, though it hasn't always been that way. For several months he brought a date to dinner. On those nights I invited Clayton Webb to even things out. I used to fool myself by believing there was a hint of jealousy in Harm's eyes when he saw Clay sitting next to me, but it was just my imagination.  
  
In the confusion of choosing seats and rearranging dishes, Ryleigh's glass was switched with Harm's. By the time she realizes this, he's already lifting the glass to his lips. She reaches out a hand to stop him but it's too late. He takes a large sip, sputters and stares at the glass curiously. I briefly wonder if I made the tea too strong. Without a word he hands the glass to his wife and picks up his own drink. She flushes and averts her eyes. Curiouser and curiouser.  
  
The dinner conversation is light and comfortable. No JAG-related discussion is allowed on Friday nights. Harriet catches us up on young AJ's school acheivement and Velma brags about her own son. I hear the faint ticking of my biological clock and ignore it. With all the godsons and honorary nieces and nephews I have, it should be enough. AJ starts a debate on whether or not the softball team he coaches will make it to the finals. I believe it will. With a coach as wonderful and dedicated as AJ, how could they not?  
  
Noticing that her glass is empty, Ryleigh pushes back her chair and not-so- gracefully gets to her feet. Harm grabs her arm to steady her, but she yanks free of his grip. Plastic smile firmly in place, she asks if anyone else would like a refill. Bud is the only one to speak up. I catch Harm's worried gaze and silently ask him what the problem is. He shakes his head. He's as much in the dark as I am.  
  
My guests still actively involved in the debate, I excuse myself from the table and join my friend in the kitchen. When she hears my footsteps on the ceramic tile, she quickly stuffs a small bottle back into the pocket of her loose jeans. She turns around with both drinks in hand. "Sorry Mac, was just on my way back in," she apologizes, her voice slightly warmer than it had been.  
  
I intentionally bump into her, sloshing the contents of her glass over the rim and onto my hand. She mumbles another apology and retreats to the dining room. I sniff the liquid on my hand and take a small taste. The overpowering scent and taste of whiskey fills my nostrils and burns my tastebuds. Ryleigh was never much a drinker. Why the sudden change?  
  
When I return to the dining room, the topic has switched to Ryleigh's book. Six months ago she started writing a history of the JAG Corps and we've all volunteered to help in any way possible. Seeing how animated she is when discussing her work, I decide to put off mentioning the drink to Harm.  
  
Once dinner is over, everyone helps carry dishes back to the kitchen. Harriet and Velma shoo me away, intent on cleaning up by themselves. I leave them to it, knowing that it gives them a chance to freely discuss the trials and tribulations of parenthood without risk of upsetting the "childless." I spot AJ, Bud, Harm and Sturgis chatting in the living room but Ryleigh is no where to be found. Following my intutition, I slip out onto the backporch and give my eyes a second to adjust to the dark.  
  
She is curled up in a corner of the porch swing Harm hung for me when I first bought the house. Her eyes are closed and I can see the faint trail of tears down her pale cheeks. I sit next to her and wrap a comforting arm around her shoulders. A heavy, shuddering sigh has her whole body shaking and she leans into my embrace.  
  
"Sorry," she whispers, her voice thick with unshed tears. "I know I shouldn't be drinking around you."  
  
I'm touched. Despite whatever misery she's going through, she's still mindful of my alcoholism. "It's okay, Rye. You want to talk about it?"  
  
She shakes her head slowly and roughly wipes away at the tears filling trickling down her cheeks. "He's still in love with you."  
  
Now that's a shock. There's no doubt as to who "he" is. In love with me? Not likely. Anyone with half a brain could see the devotion and adoration so evident in Harm's eyes whenever someone so much as mentions his wife.  
  
"You're crazy, kiddo. He loves you." It hurts me to say those words, but right now is not about me. It's about comforting the miserable young woman in my arms, no matter the pain it causes me. As I've said, we're sisters.  
  
She pauses for a moment before speaking again. "He says your name... sometimes... when we're..." She breaks off, unable to keep her emotions in check. "Why did he marry me if he's in love with you? Why would he?"  
  
I pull her closer and rub her back soothingly, torn between my anger at Harm for hurting my friend and some perverse joy that all is not well with the Rabbs. The joy only fuels my anger because I know that it is wrong.  
  
"Have you tried talking to him about it?" I query gently. For me, communicating with Harmon Rabb has never been easy. I wonder if it's the same for her.  
  
She laughs, a harsh bitter sound that tears at my heart. "So he can just tell me that it's a jealousy-driven nightmare? He doesn't realize he's doing it and wouldn't believe me if I told him."  
  
Ryleigh and I talk for several minutes until Harm interrupts our conversation to retrieve his wife. She hesitates before accepting the hand he holds out to her. I pat her on the back encouragingly and she turns to give me a grateful smile. I have already elicited a promise from her to try and discuss things with Harm. I hope she does.  
  
Once they are gone, I slowly push myself back and forth on the swing, reflecting on the night's events. Hello, I'm Sarah McKenzie, marriage counselor to the wife of the man I'm in love with. Life's funny like that, I guess. Give me one of Bud's jokes any day. At least those make me laugh.


	2. A Scene at a Party

A/N: I had originally planned for this to be a one-shot fic, but the more I thought about it, the more I had to write on it. This is all Mac's POV. Yes, there is some H/M but most of the focus is on Mac's friendship with Ryleigh. The idea of Mac having a female friend is something the show never really went into and I think it's an interesting concept.  
  
Feedback is always appreciated.  
  
Thank God I'm back home. The past two weeks at work have been hell. Every time I see Harm I picture his wife's tear-stained face. I've tried to distance myself from him but it's a small office with few hiding places. Claiming exhaustion I was able to cancel last week's dinner. I won't be so lucky this Friday. We've all been invited to the SecNav's birthday party. Normally this is exactly the kind of event I love to miss, but Edward Devlin just so happens to be Harm's father-in-law. A small smile tugs at the corners of my mouth as I remember the day Harm found out his girlfriend was the SecNav's daughter. I hadn't laughed that hard in years.  
  
A quick check of my internal clock assures me that I have exactly forty- three minutes to get ready. I quickly strip out of my uniform and dash in the bathroom for a quick shower. Ten minutes later I stand in front of my closet contemplating my wardrobe. The invitation implied that this would be a formal event and Ryleigh hinted that she would like to see as few uniforms as possible. Damn. There goes an opportunity to ogle Harm in his dress whites.  
  
Pushing aside my lusty thoughts, I close my eyes and grab the first dress my hand hits. I'm pleased with my choice. The burgundy chiffon dress has always been my favorite. The fit is flattering without being scandalous and I've been told that the color suits me perfectly. Makeup and jewelry are kept to a minimum. There's no one there I'm out to impress. The only man I'm interested in is married to the hostess of the party. Tears well up in my eyes at that oh-so depressing thought. I blink quickly to hold them back. There's no mascara in the world that's tear-proof. A quick check in the full-length mirror assures me that I look fine. I grab my small black purse and turn off the lights on my way out.  
  
By the time I arrive at the Devlin estate, the party is in full swing. Curing the early evening traffic that held me up, I hand my keys to the valet and follow and exquisitely dressed couple through the house to the backyard. The expansive, perfectly manicured yard is extravagantly decorated. The small, twinkling strands of lights and the delicately scented centerpieces lend an air of elegance to what is essentially a high- class backyard barbeque.  
  
As soon as I step under the brightly-lit canopy, Ryleigh pulls me in for a quick hug and thrusts a flute of bubbling liquid into my hand. "Great to see you Mac, you look amazing." It sounds as if she's already hit the champagne bottle pretty hard. A quick look into her bloodshot eyes with their dilated pupils confirms my suspicions. Before I can comment, she opens her mouth and continues. "You don't mind keeping Harm company do you? I've got a ton of things to do and who knows what kind of trouble he'll get into if no one's watching him." Her laugh is harsh and brittle.  
  
What is she up to? She's obviously still upset over Harm's little name switch yet she wants me to keep him entertained. I want to say no. Me spending time with Harm is not in anyone's best interests. I should say no, but I'm not that strong anymore. Once upon a time I would have hidden behind my pride and refused but now I'll take any opportunity to be alone with him, no matter what the reason. I silently nod my head in acquiescence. She kisses me on the cheek and flits off to greet another group of guests.  
  
"She's right, you know," Harm's deep tenor rumbles through me, setting the butterflies in my stomach aflutter. "You do look amazing."  
  
I gulp and quickly guzzle the contents of my glass, for a moment not caring that the contents may have contained alcohol. I relax slightly upon realizing that it was only ginger ale. I eye Harm suspiciously for a moment. Is he flirting with me or is it just an innocent compliment. Deciding to play is cool I smile and tell him he looks handsome in his dark suit. Handsome doesn't even to describe how dashing and debonair he looks. I don't say this out loud. His ego definitely does not need any encouragement.  
  
He takes my hand and tucks it into the crook of his elbow. Together we make the rounds greeting familiar faces and making new acquaintances. For a moment I let my mind wander and pretend that Harm and I are here as a couple, that the gorgeous man on my arm will take me home. All too soon the moment is broken when Ryleigh reappears, a glass of champagne in hand. She makes no move to reclaim her husband, choosing instead to hover just out of his reach.  
  
"Dinner will be served in ten minutes. At that time we'll show the video. Harm, you don't mind making the announcement, do you? I can't find the microphone and my voice doesn't carry quite the way yours does," she inquires politely, speaking to Harm as if he were a stranger.  
  
Harm agrees and whistles to get everyone's attention. Once the announcement is made, the crowd of people quickly makes their way to the rows of tables and there is some confusion as people try to find their place card. I am disappointed but not surprised to find that I am not seated with Harm. I take a quick peek at the card to my left and read the name. William Giles. No one I know. Moments later, a tall, leanly muscular man with short dark blonde curls and piercing blue eyes occupies that seat. I briefly wonder if this is Ryleigh's attempt at matchmaking.  
  
Just as I gather up my courage to start a conversation with my neighbor, impeccably dressed waiters appear and begin serving dinner. The lights are turned off and my attention turns to the large projection screen behind the head table. Great. Now that they've got a captive audience they're going to show home movies. I roll my eyes and take a bite of the mouthwatering salad placed in front of me.  
  
As the movie continues, another three courses are served. I'm shocked to admit that the video montage is actually quite interesting. The image of an athletic woman with short, spikey gold-streaked auburn hair catches my eye. Her hands are on her hips and she's defiantly glaring up at a much younger Edward Devlin.  
  
The man sitting next to me must have heard my soft, almost inaudible gasp. He turns to me and smiles wistfully. "She looks bloody wonderful, doesn't she?"  
  
"I-is that Ryleigh?" I stammer slightly, still staring at the screen though the image has changed to one of Edward and his wife Joyce celebrating their thirtieth wedding anniversary.  
  
William quirks an eyebrow curiously. "I thought you were her best mate." When I don't respond, a frown replaces the smile and he slumps in the chair. "Course she wouldn't have told you lot about that. The whole bleedin' family's got her brainwashed again."  
  
More interested in whatever he had to say than in the video, I encourage him to continue. Does my best friend have a secret life she's never told me about?  
  
He weaves an enchanting tale of a criminology student with two-thirds of the world's intelligent agencies sniffing around her. Two weeks after graduation she accepted a position with a super-secret British government agency. William smiles bitterly and runs a hand through his hair. "Took her family seventeen months to pull enough strings to get her home. Gave her all kinds of grief about creating gossip and worrying her poor mum. They set up her up with a nice respectable position at the soddin' Academy and shoved Commander Cardboard down her throat. She's a fool if she thinks she's happy like this." He glances over to where Ryleigh is talking with several guests and shakes his head in disgust.  
  
I put my hand on his arm to stop him before he can stand up and leave. "How do you know all this?" I've known Ryleigh for four years and she's never mentioned anything about working for British intelligence. I've told her most of my darkest secrets and until now had assumed she'd done the same.  
  
"I was her partner." He shakes off my hand and stalks off in Ryleigh's direction. I watch with thinly veiled amusement as he insistently taps her on the shoulder. Her eyes widen with shock as she sees just who the intruder is. She quickly excuses herself from the group and pulls the man away. "Shade!" I hear her hiss impatiently.  
  
"Something funny?"  
  
Harm's voice and the hands on my shoulders startle me out of my reverie. My cheeks flush with embarrassment. I wonder if he knows about his wife's former occupations. Based on the snide remarks he still makes about Clayton Webb, I'd have to presume that he does not.  
  
"Nothing. Just enjoying the party, that's all," I lie smoothly. I'm ashamed to learn that lying to Harm has become easier throughout the years. Part of the blame rests on his shoulders. If he weren't so quick to just accept everything I say without question things might be different.  
  
"Good." He squeezes my shoulders and the two of us just bask in the comfortable silence for a moment. A voice from a few tables away calls Harm's name and he mumbles an apology before leaving. I rise and decide to take advantage of Harm's preoccupation to do a little snooping. I quietly make my way to where I last saw Ryleigh and William. Standing just out of eyesight, I crouch down and shamelessly eavesdrop on the conversation. It's for her benefit, I tell myself. How can I help her if I don't know what's going on?  
  
"I can't believe you're not doing anything about this, pet," William's voice is concerned and reproachful. I shift slightly so that I can get a better view.  
  
Ryleigh's eyes narrow and her lips purse. She crosses her arms over her chest and adopts a purely rebellious pose. This is new. Aside from the other night's breakdown, this is the first time I've ever seen her anything other than cool and composed. "Yeah, well, you don't know me anymore, do you, Shade?"  
  
William reaches out a hand to touch her but pulls back before he makes contact. "You're right. The Ryla I knew never had a death wish."  
  
This statement seems to hit the mark. Her shoulders droop in defeat and the glare softens. "What am I supposed to do? I'm not even sure I want to fight this."  
  
He reaches forward and pulls her into a hug, gently caressing the back of her head while she silently sobs. "It's okay, pet. I know someone in England who can help. What do you say?"  
  
She pulls back slightly and wipes at her eyes with a crisp white handkerchief. "I don't know. There's too much going on here. I can't just leave Harm..." I can hear the hope and doubts in her voice.  
  
"That wanker doesn't deserve you. I'll be in town until the end of the week. You know how to get a hold of me." He presses a brotherly kiss on top of her head and quickly disappears.  
  
I slowly stand and begin making my way back to the table. "You can come out of hiding now, Mac," Ryleigh's soft voice stops me. How did she know I was there? As if reading my thoughts, leans over the bush and smiles sheepishly. "Guess we need to have a talk, huh?" 


	3. The Truth, the Whole Truth and Nothing b...

I enter the packed lecture hall and slip in to an empty seat in the back row. I've been trying to talk to Ryleigh for a week now but she won't return my phone calls. Harm mentioned that she was speaking at the Academy so I canceled a few appointments and left the office early. There is no dinner tonight so my schedule is pathetically clear. She can't hide from me forever.  
  
Her dull, almost monotone tone of voice surprises me. This evening's topic 'The Role of Intelligence in Warfare' is usually one of her favorites. Which I suppose now makes perfect sense. She lacks the enthusiasm and vivacity I'm so used to seeing. When she moves away from the podium to point at a date on the enlarged timeline, I cannot believe what I see. If possible, she's even thinner than before. Her expensively tailored suit hangs off her petite frame. The weariness on her face is alien and quite disconcerting.  
  
How could Harm allow these changes to occur? I know from experience that he can be stubborn and is perfectly capable of manipulating others to get his way. He's done the same with powerful military leaders and heads of state. Convincing his diminutive wife to eat and smile shouldn't be so difficult. Maybe he's losing his touch. My eyes wander through the attentive crowd. She's about to fall and I'm the only one who seems to notice. Once she does, will I be able to catch her? I stop when I reach a familiar face in the front row. Concerned sharp blue eyes follow her every move. Perhaps I'm not the only one. Somewhat placated by the thought that at least one other person is watching out for my friend, I relax and let myself enough the rest of the lecture. This is one of my favorite topics, too.  
  
Question and answer time is a complete joke. It's obvious that some people were not paying any attention to the lecture. Thirty questions later, Ryleigh's visibly fading and the hands keep shooting up. William quickly rushes onto the stage and leans down to speak into the microphone. "Sorry to cut this short, mates, but Professor Devlin's a busy lady. Thank you for your time." There are a few grumbles but his disarming smile mollifies the majority of the group.  
  
I roll my eyes at his use of her maiden name. He wraps an arm around her waist and leads her out through a back door. I pick up my purse and fight my way through the crowd to catch up with them. Fortunately they've stopped at a bench just outside the building. Afraid of intruding on a private moment, I slow my steps.  
  
"The results came in this afternoon. It's starting to spread." The cool summer breeze carries Ryleigh's soft, anguished voice. I've never heard someone imply so much with so few words.  
  
William murmurs words of consolation and embraces her tightly. The hug is as much for his benefit as hers. Though I don't know what they're talking about, **yet**, I can tell that it's serious.  
  
"Hello, Colonel Mackenzie." William reluctantly releases his grip on his former partner. I take this as my cue to move forward, stopping only inches away from the pair.  
  
Ryleigh straightens and quickly masks the pain and fatigue so evident on her face. "Oh, hi Mac. I didn't know you were coming."  
  
"Was in the area so I thought I'd stop in and take you out for dinner." The lie rolls smoothly of my tongue. I feel a momentary pang of guilt but brush it aside. My one white lie is nothing compared to the secrets the redhead harbors.  
  
William catches my attention and the two of us hold a silent conversation. He knows that I've figured out something and is giving me permission to seek answers. As if I need his permission. I'm a United States Marine. If I want something bad enough, I'll find a way to get it whether or not permission is granted.  
  
Seeming to understand my position, he nods in acknowledgment before bending down to whisper in her ear. "You will not take this lying down. Talk with Mackenzie, get it all straightened out then come find me. If I don't hear from you in three days, I'm going to kick your bloody door down."  
  
I am surprised not only by the way he speaks to Ryleigh but by her small smile and muttered agreement. Whereas Harm has always treated Ryleigh as if she were a child to be protected, William treats her as an equal. The mystery that is the Rabb marriage puzzle me. At one time I could have told you that Harm and Rye were perfect for each other, but now I'm filled with doubts.  
  
"See ya, pet," he winks and spins on his heel, leather duster flapping around him.  
  
She watches his retreating back for a few moments then turns to face me. I grab her hand and squeeze it tightly. This seems to reassure her and she returns the squeeze. "There's a great Chinese place down the street. We can pick something up and bring it back to my office."  
  
Relieved that she's not going to fight me when it comes to our pending discussion, I agree and offer to drive. My reasons are mostly selfish. I don't want to give her the chance to disappear while I'm gone. At the restaurant she stares dumbly at the menu so I order for her. She is going to eat tonight. Whether or not it's by force is her decision.  
  
Half an hour later we're in her office surrounded by piles of takeout containers. I may have gone a little overboard in the ordering. Her dish of chow mein half empty, she sets down her chopsticks and sighs contentedly. I knew a decent meal would do her good, but that's only part of the problem. I don't want to press just make sure that she knows I'm here if she needs me.  
  
"I have cancer."  
  
I choke on a mouthful of rice. Well, I definitely was not expecting that. I reach for my bottle of water and wash down the rice. "What?" My voice is hoarse from the coughing. "I have ovarian cancer. Please don't say anything to Harm. I haven't told him yet." Her smile is oddly serene, as if admitting to someone else has somehow eased her burden.  
  
She hasn't told her husband about her cancer yet her estranged partner knows all about it. Am I the only one who sees a problem with that? "How long have you known?"  
  
Ryleigh immediately focuses on her food. This is worse than I thought. What could she be afraid to tell me? She married the man I've loved for over a decade. If I can handle that, there's very little she could say or do that would truly upset me.  
  
"Four months," she responds quietly.  
  
And that would be one of them. "You've known about this for four months and you're just now telling me about it? When were you going to say something??" I can't help the anger that comes through in my tone. We're supposed to be friends, sisters, and she's been hiding this from me for four months. Something suddenly dawns on me. "This is what William was talking about at the party, isn't it? You weren't going to tell anyone, were you?"  
  
My rage only increases in strength when she slowly shakes her head. Fat tears well up in her eyes and trickle down her pale cheeks but I can't feel any sympathy for her right now. "Do you have any idea what that would have done to me? To Harm? What in the hell were you thinking?"  
  
"I don't to make a big deal over this," she insists, staring up at me with pleading, watery eyes.  
  
I feel some of my anger ebbing away, only to be replaced by hurt and fear. Hurt that she didn't trust me enough to confide in me and fear that my best friend may be dying and there's no way I can help her. "No big deal? Rye, you're sick. That is a big deal. You should have told someone."  
  
She jumps to her feet and angrily brushes away the tears. "Why? So Mom can run out and start the Ryleigh Rabb foundation? So my dad can use it for his congressional campaign next year? Most of my life has been documented in one gossip mag or another, Mac. What makes you think this will be any different?"  
  
I concede her point. With a father involved in politics and a famous journalist for a mother, she is not as private of a citizen as she would like to be. "Harm has a right to know."  
  
Ryleigh blows out a deep breath and rubs the back of her neck. "He's up for promotion soon. With the board watching him as closely as they are, he doesn't need to be distracted," she argues logically. She collapses in her chair and closes her eyes. "When did things get so screwed up?"  
  
I sit on the edge of the desk next to her and put an arm around her shoulders. I don't really have an answer so all I can do is offer comfort.  
  
"Probably around the time I married your guy, huh?" she laughs. For once the sound isn't bitter or forced. She notices my shocked look and sobers. "I am so sorry, Sarah. He assured me that there was nothing between you but I shouldn't have believed him. Had I known for sure, I never would have said yes."  
  
Before I can respond, I find myself in Ryleigh's arms. Hot tears are falling on my shoulder, soaking the material of my shirt, but I pay them no heed. This is a time for reconnecting. Asking for and freely giving forgiveness. She's not just apologizing for Harm. Lord knows that isn't hers to apologize for. We've drifted apart over the past months and I can tell the rift has hurt her just as deeply as it has me.  
  
"It's okay, sweetie. It's not your fault," I pat her back and urge her to cry it all out. It isn't until I see the growing wet spot on the top of Ryleigh's head that I realize I'm crying as well.  
  
Together we cry for several minutes. Me for the love I've lost and may never have. She for the life she's losing and will never have. Our tears spent, we share a box of tissues and attempt to dry our faces. Ryleigh opens her mouth to speak but is cut off by the shrill ring of my cell phone.  
  
I glance at the caller id and frown when I see Harm's name. "Hello?" I greet shakily, not completely recovered from the tears.  
  
"I noticed that you left early. Are you feeling well? Have you been crying?" Harm is concern personified. Unfortunately his concern is directed at the wrong person. Though I'm touched by his thoughtfulness, my resentment of him on Ryleigh's behalf rears its ugly head.  
  
I put up a hand motioning Ryleigh to be quiet. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just had a family emergency to take care of." That is not a lie. Ryleigh is family and this is an emergency if I ever saw one. I convince Harm that I will be just fine and quickly end the call. I return to my seat on the opposite side of the desk and ask Ryleigh what her plans are.  
  
This brings out another deep sigh. "William...," her voice fades and she stares off into space. "It's complicated. I saw you two talking at the party. He told you all about the past." It's a statement not a question.  
  
I nod and gesture for her to continue. "I love my family. I enjoy teaching. Harm... has his moments." "But it's not the life you want, is it?" I interrupt, already knowing where this is heading, all the pieces finally falling into place. My friend is not happy with her life and was honestly considering just giving up and dying. "There are easier ways to commit suicide," I point out acidly.  
  
She flushes with embarrassment but no more tears follow. "The thing is, Mac, I don't want to die. I just don't want to be _me_ anymore."  
  
What do you say to that? I glance down at my watch, surprised to find that we've been talking for three hours. Where has all the time gone? The miserable look on Ryleigh's face tells me that I won't be getting any more out of her tonight. That's all right with me. We've talked more in these short hours than we had in the past two years. We clean up the empty containers and make plans to meet again soon. Now that I know my time with her is limited I will make more of an effort to clear my schedule. I hope she does the same.  
  
The walk out to the parking lot is silent. There aren't any more words to be said and none need to be spoken. Before we can part ways, I reach out and hug her one more time. "I know I can't make you promise to tell Harm, but please promise me you won't give up."  
  
She tightens the embrace and kisses my cheek. When she pulls back there's a twinkle in her eyes. "Don't worry Sarah. I'm not a quitter." 


	4. Thursday Dinner

A/N: Short chapter. Hints of H/M.  
  
For the first time in a long while, I'm not looking forward to dinner with Ryleigh. I've reached my drama quota for the month, both inside and outside of the courtroom. Normally I would not be meeting her on a "school" night but I want to know what decision she reached before family dinner tomorrow night. I'm running late so there's no time to run home and change out of my uniform. Fortunately she selected a restaurant close to my office.  
  
When I step inside the restaurant, I stand on my toes and try to spot a familiar flash of red hair. Seeing none, I give the hostess my name and the name of my companion. She flips through her reservation book and frowns. "I don't have any reservations for Ryleigh Rabb. I do have a Harmon Rabb. Is that who you're looking for?"  
  
She probably called it in as Mrs. Harmon Rabb. The employees at this particular restaurant are not known for their intelligence. I agree and follow a tall blonde waitress to a table in the back room. Ryleigh is nowhere to be seen, but the waitress is leading me to where a dark-haired man is sitting alone. Though I can only see the back of his head, I know exactly who it is.  
  
Just before we reach the table Harm stands up and turns around. His smile grows a little wider when he sees me. "Mac, have a seat. What are you doing here?"  
  
Funny, I'm wondering the same thing about him; though I have a sinking suspicion I know who's behind all this. He rushes around the table to pull out my chair and then push it back in once I'm seated. The waitress takes my drink order and quickly leaves to get it filled. There's a vase of roses on the table. My first thought is that he was expecting Rye but that can't be right. She doesn't like roses. She prefers beautiful lilies, callas and orchids. Has he forgotten or was he expecting someone else?  
  
The insistent beep of my cell alerts me to a new text message. I am about to apologize for the noise, but Harm is too busy answering his ringing phone. I quickly retrieve my phone and enter my password. "Have a piece of cheesecake for me." A little off the wall, but confirms my earlier suspicions. This is a set up.  
  
"That was Rye. Something came up at the Academy and she had to cancel our dinner. Would you mind joining me? Unless you had other plans..."  
  
I've never seen Harm so unsure of himself. This must be the month for firsts. He doesn't know about his wife's plan and I'm not about to make things awkward between us by telling him. I smile and pat his hand. "No, my date cancelled to. I'd love to join you."  
  
The waitress returns with my tea and gives us a minute to peruse the menu. After placing our order, Harm and I chat about our recent cases. During a lull in the conversation when the waitress brings our food, I pause and wonder about the feasibility of a relationship with the man sitting across from me. It seems that work is all we ever talk about.  
  
Before I can think too much about the subject, he mentions a point Bud brought up in one of his cases last week. I feel passionately about this subject, as I know he does. We just happen to feel passionately about different sides. The rest of our meal is spent defending our respective positions. While at times I cannot deny his logic, most of the time his arguments require a stretch of the imagination.  
  
As he animatedly attempts to blow holes in my theory, a feeling of wistfulness washes over me. I've missed this. Missed arguing with a man I respect and admire. He challenges me in ways I've never been challenged before. He keeps me on my toes and prevents my brain from atrophying. God I love this man.  
  
When the waitress inquires about dessert, I remember my message. Following instructions, I order a slice of cheesecake. Harm does the same. After one bite of the creamy dessert, I mentally thank my friend for the suggestion. I feel no guilt over letting him pay the bill or accepting the flowers. I could be charging him for marriage counseling, so this is the least he could do. He walks me to my car and hugs me before I get inside.  
  
Half a mile from the restaurant I reach for my cell and call speed-dial number 2. She answers on the second ring.  
  
"You're a dead woman." I'm only half-teasing.  
  
Her affectionate laughter brings a smile to my face. "I take it you enjoyed dinner then?"  
  
"Yes." There's no hesitation on my part. I thoroughly enjoyed my dinner with Harm. It reminded me of the "good old days." Helped me realize that despite the changes we've gone through, there's still that spark I've always felt. If anything I'm more in love with him now than before. Was this her intention? What's her motivation? A dark thought crosses my mind. "How are you feeling?"  
  
"Pretty good for a change. I'm getting things back in perspective." She adopts a more serious tone. "Can I stop by tomorrow night before everyone else shows up?"  
  
I take this to mean she's reached a decision. Something so serious that she can't tell me over the phone. I hope I can wait until tomorrow night. The suspense is already killing me. "Of course you can, kiddo. Don't forget tomorrow's your night to bring dessert."  
  
"Did you try the cheesecake?"  
  
Now how did I know that was coming? "Yes, I did. Thank you. It was just what I needed." I don't know if I'm talking about the cheesecake or the evening with Harm. Both seemed to have eased my stress and brought me out of my depression.  
  
"You're welcome." Somehow I think she knows what I'm thinking. The way she can read me is frightening. I only wish I was able to do the same to her. It could have prevented some of this. "Good night Sarah. I love you."  
  
"Night Rye. Love you too." If I can't say the words to one Rabb, I might as well say them to the other. At least with her I know the feeling is mutual. 


	5. Twinkle in Your Eye

Most days I love having an accurate, precise internal clock. Today is not one of those days. Ever since the phone call last night, I've been anxiously awaiting Ryleigh's arrival. It's a miracle that I managed to get through my closing statement for the Marks court martial. Just goes to show that I need new material. Most of them are starting to sound the same. All I have to do is change the names and details and voila. Harm always has wonderful and impassioned arguments. Maybe I should ask him what his secret is. I wonder if he could give classes on that. He'd be really good at it.  
  
I'm saved from that rather disturbing line of thought by the peal of the doorbell. I pull open the door without bothering with the peephole. Ryleigh, two large paper grocery sacks balanced precariously in her arms, smiles in greeting and patiently waits for me to move. I step aside and allow her to quickly rush by me to drop her bags on the kitchen counter.  
  
I lean against the counter as she pulls a frozen pie out of one of the sacks. "Betty Crocker I am not, no surprise there. Can't go wrong with Marie, though. Besides, you know me, I completely forgot until about twenty minutes ago," she laughs. A ceramic pie dish appears from the bag. She removes the pie from its box and places it into the dish then leaves the pie in the refrigerator to cool. Noticing my raised eyebrow she winces and puts a finger over her lips. "It'll be our little secret, okay?"  
  
Unable to remain still any longer I quickly move forward and pull her in for a crushing hug. She's acting so much like the woman I love and have missed terribly. I pull back slightly and carefully inspect her appearance. Her eyes are clear and bright and there's no trace of pain or anguish on her pixie face. A touch of color brightens her complexion. If there's any weight gain it's minimal, but hey, I wasn't expecting a miracle.  
  
"Hey, hey, I'll have you know this is a very expensive sweatshirt. It's a one of a kind. If you get any mascara on it, I'll..." she breaks off when I playfully slap her across the back of the head. She grins sheepishly and rubs at her skull. I know she has three more just like it.  
  
Obviously whatever decision she's reached has helped relieve the burden that's been weighing her down. I haven't seen her this carefree since just before the wedding. I offer her a drink and the two of us retreat to the back porch. She opts to sit on the porch rail while I slowly rock back and forth in the swing.  
  
"I told Harm this morning," she confesses, her smile fading slightly.  
  
This surprises me. There was no change in his behavior, nothing to indicate that anything was wrong. Either he really is that good at hiding his emotions or he's still living in the land of denial. I'm voting for the last one. He's the uncontested king of Denial.  
  
I inquire as to how he took the news. She shakes her head, indicating that it was less-than-pleasant and takes a sip of her water. I wonder if she told him that this is not a recent discovery. Odds are she has not and has no intention to do so. If not for the strain it would place on my relationship with Ryleigh, I would tell him myself.  
  
"He promised that we would deal with this together, but I couldn't help but feel like it was all such an imposition. I know he's got a full plate, but it's not like I asked for this to happen. I mean, come on, give me a break. So what if he's not madly in love with me? Can't he at least pretend to give a damn?" She stops abruptly and blinks several times, shocked by the ferocity of her own anger.  
  
How can she so flippantly comment on the fact that her husband is not in love with her? Is this the same woman who cried on my shoulder because her husband was in love with someone else? I must have spoken aloud because she answers, explaining that she was not upset simply because Harm is in love with someone else. That realization combined with the cancer and her increasing unhappiness with her life was just more than she could handle.  
  
"I thought it was me, you know. Figured something was wrong with me because I couldn't love him the way I was supposed to. I could handle Mom, Dad and everything else as long as there was one part of my life that wasn't a complete sham. Of course I should have realized I was wrong." She looks up at me, brow furrowed in contemplation. "Have I mentioned lately how very sorry I am for dumping on you like I did? Sometimes I can be Ms. Insensitive."  
  
I brush off her apology. I've already forgiven her for everything and hope she's done the same for me. Had I been honest with my feelings about Harm from the very beginning things would be drastically different. We discuss treatment options and how she's going to break the news to her family. I can feel her tension at the thought of her parents' reaction. Mrs. Devlin is a bit of a drama queen. I'm certain that "her" crisis will be shared with the rest of the nation. I notice that William's name is decidedly absent from the conversation and tell her as much.  
  
Ryleigh blushes furiously and I know that something's up. She's not the adulterous type, no matter what marital problems she's having, so I'm not too worried. Instead of answering she switches the topic to my dinner with Harm. Allowing the evasive maneuver, I chide her for setting me up with a married man but the look on her face is completely unrepentant. What is her plan? We've already discussed the possibility of divorce and she reluctantly dismissed that idea. Their wedding was a highly publicized affair. There's no doubt that their divorce would be as well, only this time with negative results. Our current C.O. is retiring and Harm is up for the position. Though technically a divorce has nothing to do with his career, with a powerful and short-tempered father-in-law like Edward Devlin, who knows what could happen.  
  
The rest of our friends will be arriving shortly and I still haven't started cooking. At least now I'll have an extra set of hands to help. I turn to ask Ryleigh if she'd rather make the sauce or toss the salad and notice that she's swaying slightly with one hand pressed against her temple. Her nose is scrunched up and her eyes are shut tightly.  
  
"You alright, sweetie?" I kneel down beside her and press a hand to her warm forehead.  
  
She manages a tight smile and opens one emerald eye. "Headache. Side effect." I take this to mean that headaches are a side effect of whatever medication they've got her on. I make a mental note to do some research on the 'net later. If I'm going to be of any assistance, I want to know what we're up against. At least then I'll feel like I'm actually helping. She stood by me when I fell off the wagon and kept me from retreating behind my carefully constructed walls during a mini-meltdown last fall. Now it's my turn to be there for her. Despite it's impending collapse, Harm's marriage managed to accomplish something. It's given me the best friend a person could ever ask for.  
  
After a moment the pain passes and she allows me to help her stand. Together we walk in the house, leaning on each other. But isn't that the way it's supposed to be? 


	6. The One Who Never Left

Though she's not much of a chef, I enjoy Ryleigh's help in the kitchen. We laugh and joke and for a minute I forget that she's dying. She catches me staring at her with tears in my eyes and slaps at me with a damp dishrag. "Suck it up Marine," she teases but her eyes aren't clear either.  
  
For a change Harm is the first to arrive. He's tense and distant when he greets me. It isn't until he spots his wife that he relaxes a little. "Mac, do you mind if Ryleigh and I step outside for a minute?"  
  
Pleased that they are going to finally communicate, I tell him that I don't mind at all. Rye's expression is quizzical as she allows him to lead her outside. I wink and mouth the words 'Good luck.' However, I'm not sure which one needs it more.  
  
While they talk outside, I pull the half-meatless lasagna out of the oven and set it on a rack to cool. Deciding to leave the kitchen before I start eavesdropping, I grab a magazine and sit in the living room to not so patiently wait. The others won't be arriving for at least thirty minutes or so and my curiosity is killing me. My head jerks up when I hear the backdoor open. Harm's got his arm around Ryleigh's waist and there's an impish smile on her face that I don't quite trust. I know she's up to something but I can't quite figure out what it is.  
  
"They're doing more exploratory surgery next Saturday. We're not going to tell anyone until after then," she announces. I nod in agreement, understanding the logic behind that decision. She then states that she and Harm will be hosting dinner the night before her surgery. I start to ask if that's a wise decision, but Harm shakes his head to cut me off. Apparently he's already had that argument. The three of us discuss her medication and possible treatment options until the first guest arrives.  
  
Dinner is a relaxed, pleasurable affair. Even AJ comments on the relaxed atmosphere. I wonder how many of them had noticed the strain between Harm and Ryleigh. Harm is a great deal more solicitous towards his wife, but surprisingly she does not call him on it. She even goes so far as to allow him to dish her food. While he is out of the room refilling her glass, I lean over to whisper in her ear. "What's the deal with you and Harm? Two weeks ago you wouldn't let him touch you now you've got him running around like your servant."  
  
She laughs conspiratorially and grins widely. "Hey, if he wants to cater to my every whim, who am I to say no? Besides, think of it as me breaking him in for you."  
  
My jaw drops at her last remark. Before I can ask just what the hell she means, Harm re-enters the room and sets her glass on the table. Her smile broadens as she thanks her husband. I glare at her but fear it's not too effective for she only laughs again.  
  
Once dinner is over, Harriet and Velma take their usual places in the kitchen while Ryleigh borrows a legal pad and begins asking AJ and Bud questions for her novel. I inquire as to whether or not she has any questions for me, but she just shoos me away. All my guests are occupied so I escape to the back porch for some fresh air. Or may some not so fresh air. I find Harm sitting on the back steps with a lit cigar in his mouth.  
  
"Sorry Mac. I can put it out if you'd like," he apologizes upon hearing my cough. I shake my head and assure him that I'll be fine. It's not the first time I've inhaled second-hand smoke and it probably won't be the last. He scoots over and pats the spot next to him. Never one to pass up an invitation, I sit and pull my knees up to my chest.  
  
For several moments we do nothing but enjoy the peaceful sounds of nature. Fortunately my house is in a more rural area so I don't have to listen to the noise that comes with urban living. At first I hated the silence but now I find it comforting. I can't imagine ever moving back to the city.  
  
"I don't know what to do," he divulges from out of the blue.  
  
Well this is a first. Harm actually admitting that he's not in complete control of the situation. I thought I'd never live to see the day. Though it's tempting, I don't tell him what's running through my mind. He's opening up to me and I don't want to ruin the occasion. There's always plenty of time for sarcasm later.  
  
Harm must have taken my silence as an encouragement to continue because after a minute he begins again. "I haven't been the greatest husband. Maybe Rye and I shouldn't have..." he breaks off and takes a puff on his cigar. "What I feel for her may not be love, but it's strong. I want to help her through this but I don't know how or if she'll even let me."  
  
Poor thing. He looks so much like the little kid who just broke his toy. Ha. Ryleigh probably wouldn't appreciate that analogy much. Wait a minute. Did he just admit that he doesn't love his wife? This sounds familiar. He feels something for her and isn't sure that it's love but it's a strong feeling. Gee, where have I heard that before? Has he ever been sure of his emotions?  
  
"Why is it that every time I get close to a woman they leave... or die?" He inquires, taking a long draw on his cigar before tossing it out into my yard. Normally I'd yell at him for that but I'll let it slide tonight.  
  
I wonder if he's lumping me in the "left" category. "You never let anyone get close to you," I respond softly, watching his beautiful eyes closely for a reaction. Though he's a master at leaving his face void of any emotion, he doesn't have the same control over his eyes.  
  
He shakes his head and reaches for my hand. "You're the only one who never left. What makes you so different, Sarah?"  
  
I know the answer, but it's not one he wants to hear. Now is not the time for a declaration of undying love. My pride won't allow me to confess I decided that loving him from afar and accepting whatever crumbs he gives is better than losing him altogether. Hoping he won't press too hard, I simply squeeze his hand and tell him that I will always be here for him.  
  
The moment is spoiled when the door opens and Bud rushes onto the porch. He quickly informs us that while speaking with him and AJ, Ryleigh complained of a headache and promptly passed out. Harm's eyes widen. I grab his arm before he can instruct Bud to call an ambulance. I whisper in his ear that it's just a side effect from the medication. His lips thin and I realize that she hadn't quite told him everything.  
  
We go inside and find a huddle around my couch. Harm gently lifts his unconscious wife into his arms and carries her out to the car. I make an excuse about a heavy lecture schedule and lack of sleep. Though they are wary, the others seem to accept my story. This effectively breaks up the party. As I double check the locks and turn off the lights, my mind wanders back to my conversation with Harm and the scheming going on in Ryleigh's head. Somehow I have a feeling that the next few weeks are going to get very interesting. 


	7. This is Going to Hurt Like Hell

I can't believe it's Saturday already. I had agreed to come to the hospital with Harm and Ryleigh. She said it was to provide her with moral support, but I have a feeling that it's more for Harm's benefit. Whereas she's relatively calm and relaxed, he's tense and anxious. Once she's changed into the hospital gown and settled in the bed, we're allowed to sit with her until it's time for the operation. The three of us tell lame jokes in a poor attempt to take our minds off why we're here.  
  
All too soon, the nurse comes in and tells us they're ready. Harm gently caresses her cheek and kisses her softly. I notice a slight tremble in his hands. Poor Harm. He always likes to be in charge but he's lost control with this one.  
  
He hovers near the door while I lean down to hug her. Her eyes are swimming with tears and I swear I can read goodbye in their depths. "Take care of him, Sarah. He's going to need you now more than ever. I love you."  
  
I want to believe this is the same overdramatic Ryleigh, but something inside tells me she's serious. She honestly doesn't believe she won't come through this. Just how advanced is the cancer? "Just relax. You'll be fine."  
  
She nods and hugs me tighter. As I move to leave she slips two small white envelopes in my hands. I know what they are. She's written a "If you're reading this, I didn't make it" letter. I don't ever want to have to read it. Harm and I move to the waiting room. There are a few people sitting and reading, but it's not too crowded. We choose seats in a far corner. It's obvious Harm's not up for conversation. He picks up an old People and begins absently flipping through the glossy pages. I lean back in the chair and close my eyes.  
  
My mind drifts back to the party the night before. Ryleigh had her mind set on a backyard luau. It was quite amusing to see AJ in a Hawaiian shirt. Harriet and Velma spent time swimming in the pool with their kids. Harm and Sturgis set up a volleyball net and we played a few games of men vs. women with the women beating the men two out of three times. Ryleigh was so much like her old self that I let myself pretend the last few weeks were all just a nightmare. She and Harm laughed and joked like sweethearts instead of the strangers they'd become. While it hurt to see them so close, I knew that it was for the best. If divorce wasn't an option they had to find a way to make things work.  
  
After seventy-four minutes of sitting, I slowly wander around the room to stretch my legs. Pausing by the doors to the operating room wing, I peer through the glass windows and spot Ryleigh's doctor speaking to thin man with familiar curls and chiseled cheekbones. He looks like Ryleigh's William but what would he be doing in the hospital? Convinced that the man I'm seeing is not William, I return to my seat next to Harm.  
  
A few minutes later the doctor and a nurse emerge, the expression on the doctor's face is one I've feared. He stands in front of Harm with his eyes averted. "Mr. Rabb, your wife had an adverse reaction to the anesthesia. She went into cardiac arrest. I'm sorry sir, the cancer weakened her system. We weren't able to save her."  
  
What? No! There must be some mistake. How could this happen? Aside from a minor headache she seemed all right last night. It was supposed to be a minor surgery with minimal risks. Harm's silent as he digests this information. He thanks the doctor and tells the nurse that he will be along shortly to sign the necessary forms for the inquest. He turns to me with sad eyes and I can't hold my tears back any longer. I collapse in his arms and cry out my pain, not caring about witnesses. He wraps his arms around my shaking shoulders and murmurs words of comfort. Though my grief the irony of the situation hits me. Harm's just lost his wife and he's consoling me.  
  
We stand there for who knows how long wrapped up in our misery. The heart that so recently swelled with joy at the memory of my friend's happiness now feels broken and weighed down. It is as if I've lost a piece of myself. Harm reluctantly releases his grip on me and I look up to realize he'd been crying as well. He asks if I'll be okay on my own while he signs the forms and speaks with the doctor. I know what he's thinking. The sooner we can get out of this place, the better. I don't mind being alone. It will give me a chance to mourn in solitude. After two hours, he returns telling me that he has to identify the body before we can leave.  
  
While we wait for the nurse to take him to the morgue, I remember the envelopes in my pocket. I hand Harm his envelope and turn my back slightly to give him some privacy. With shaking hands, I open my envelope. Another wave of sadness washes over me when I get a whiff of the jasmine vanilla scent Ryleigh loved. Blinking rapidly to fight back another onslaught of tears, I pull out a sheet of crisp white paper covered with her slightly sloppy handwriting.  
  
"Sarah,  
  
If you're reading this it's because, chicken that I am, I never said the words out loud. I love you. You're my friend, my confidante and my sister. We may not have been blood related, but that doesn't make our bond any weaker. I wasn't always the greatest friend in the world, but you, amazing woman that you are, never once wavered. Thank you for everything you've done and been for me. You are a beautiful, intelligent, confidant person and I am honored to be your friend.  
  
Harm's going to take this hard, there's no way around that. I know him and his over-grown sense of duty. Don't let him feel guilty. There wasn't anything he could have done. Let him know that leaving him is harder than I'd thought and that I wish I could have spared him this pain. Maybe if I'd had more time... but that's not the point. I care deeply for him and always will.  
  
I don't want either of you to grieve for me. You don't own stock in Kleenex so it won't do anyone any good. Dying's put things in perspective and taught me how to live. Now I want both of you to live and love for me. Grab him by the hand and make each other happy, I know you can. Save me a piece of cake at the reception.  
  
Remember, things aren't always what they seem.  
  
Ryleigh."  
  
When I'm finished with the letter, I realize that Harm's already gone to the morgue. He returns more upset than before he left. I inquire as to what's wrong, assuming that it has something to do with his note.  
  
"Paperwork mix-up. They switched her with a man who was to be cremated today," he responds, his voice tight and strained.  
  
Talk about pouring salt on an open wound. It's hard enough to lose someone you care about so suddenly but harder still to know that you'll never really get a chance at closure. I give him a much-needed hug and kiss his cheek.  
  
He explains that cremation is what she wanted but this means there will be no inquest. The questions we have won't be answered. I offer to go home with him to help with the difficult phone calls and arrangements. He smiles gratefully and accepts. We walk hand in hand out of the hospital. The pain might be unbearable right now but it's nice to know I won't be alone. 


	8. Burial

It was easier to silently watch as Harm promised another woman 'til death do us part' than it is for me to stand here in the cemetery and bite my tongue. This entire memorial service is a sham. I want to rage at the people standing up to say a few words about their "friend." Ryleigh was more than just a history professor or a "Devlin." A person's not defined by their occupation or who their parents are. It makes me wonder if any of them really knew her.

The last three days were emotionally draining. I spent every day with Harm helping him through the arrangements and listening if he wanted to talk. Everything in the house reminded us of our loss. While flipping through late night television I ran across an old episode of _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ and, remembering it as my friend's guilty pleasure, promptly burst into tears. He and I decided to wait until after the service to go through her belongings. Most of them were going to charity, though there were a few things Harriet, Velma and I were going to keep.

I'm glad Harm insisted on keeping her mother out of the loop when it came to the service arrangements. She would have insisted on having an elaborate church service with a choir, minister and a thousand attendees. We chose to have a small graveside service with no formal program. It's a bright, sunny warm day. She would have loved it.

Finally it's my turn to speak. I look around at her students, family friends and her parents. Their eyes are damp with tears and a few are crying openly. Are they crying because she's no longer available to be their perfect teacher and daughter or because they will never see her smile or hear her laugh? Did There are so many things I want to say. Unfortunately the person I want to say them to is not around to hear me.

"Ryleigh Astra Devlin Rabb was a bitchy, moody, opinionated, bossy woman." A collective gasp comes from my audience. I glance over at Harm and he smiles at me. That gives me the courage to continue. "She was also loyal, compassionate, and the sweetest woman I've ever met. When I first met her, she had something I wanted. I desperately tried to hate her but I just couldn't. She was a wonderful mess of contradictions. The woman who fearlessly chased an armed purse-snatcher five blocks was the same woman who screeched like a banshee at the sight of a small spider. She was the first person to tell you when you screwed up, when you did good she was the one clapping the loudest. I envied her grace, passion and exuberance. She was my friend and I loved her."

Relieved to have gotten all that off my chest, I sag against Harm. Automatically one of his arms wraps around my waist. He won't be speaking today. We talked about it this morning and he doesn't feel that he can get through his speech without breaking down. As predicted, he's feeling guilty for not loving Rye the way he should have and for not being able to help her. I told him what her letter said but I'm not sure if it did any good.

A few more speeches are given, but something else has caught my attention. William is standing at the edge of the crowd. He looks handsome in his dark gray suit and matching tie. My eyes move to the figure next to him. She, the dress being a dead giveaway, is covered from head to toe in black. My hopes start to rise but I quickly dash them down. It can't be Ryleigh. I read the doctor's report. The cancer medication as well as the cancer itself had taken their toll on her system. The additional strain of the surgery and the anesthesia was simply more than her body could handle. Her temperature spiked, the first indication that something was wrong. She went into respiratory and cardiac arrests and, despite their efforts to save her, she was pronounced dead a few minutes later.

"Yes, Mac, because we all know government agents would never fake their death," the voice inside my head, which sounds irritatingly like Clayton Webb, mocks. I brush those thoughts aside and force myself to listen to Sturgis' final remarks. Slowly the group begins to break up. Mrs. Devlin is holding a reception at her house, but neither Harm nor I are up to attending. We are among the last to leave, not willing to leave the place where our friend's remains lie in a small urn buried in the ground. As we reluctantly walk away from the site, William and his companion move to stand in front of the granite headstone.

I hear a derisive snort come from the woman and stop in my tracks. Harm stops as well and tilts his head to the side curiously. He's dismissed the snort but I recognize it as one of Ryleigh's characteristic moves. I gesture for him to continue to the car. There's no sense in causing him anymore grief. The couple is speaking lowly so I move a step backward to hear them.

"Kinda sad, isn't it?" The woman's voice is not Ryleigh's. Her English accent is coarse and unrefined like William's and the pitch isn't quite right. He's probably brought a sister or friend with him. I curse myself as my eyes fill with tears. I desperately wanted it to be her.

"What is, pet?" William responds gently.

I turn my head slightly to see them kneeling next to the headstone. The woman reaches out one slender hand to trace the engraved letters. "When you die, your whole life is summed up on one small rock and no one ever says anything personal. It's always 'Beloved mother' or 'she was loved.' Couldn't they have found something better to put than 'Death isn't the end but a new beginning?' Come on. That's got be the cheesiest line there is."

William laughs, stands and pulls the woman to her feet. "Fitting, isn't it?" She grudgingly agrees and takes one last long look at the headstone.

If only they knew how long Harm and I agonized over a proper epithet. Nothing anyone suggested seemed to fit. Still believing she was still alive somewhere, I insisted on the new beginning one and Harm finally capitulated. A strong breeze lifts the dark scarf from the woman's head and I hold my breath, hoping to see a flash of red hair. This has to be Ryleigh. Why else would they find the words so fitting?

"Come on, Mac, let's go." Harm's voice has me turning my head in his direction. I quickly glance back to see woman struggling with her scarf. A tendril of dark blonde hair comes loose from her bun and my heart sinks even lower. I silently trudge to where Harm is waiting.

"What did you see?" he queries once we're in the car.

I stare out the window to where William and the blonde are walking through the empty cemetery. "Nothing, Harm. Was hoping to catch a ghost, that's all."


	9. The End

It's been three months since Ryleigh's death. The pain isn't as fresh and acute as it was then, but it's still there. A dull ache that won't go away. Sometimes I still believe she's still alive. I don't have any proof. Just this niggling doubt in the back of my mind. It sounds stupid, but I'd know if she was dead. I'd feel even worse than I do now.

Harm and I are getting along much better. We're back to where we were before Ryleigh and all the ugliness in the years prior. He's a lot more open about his feelings now. We spend hours just talking and it feels really good. I haven't told him that I love him, but I've hinted. He seems to understand though, because he's hinted the same. It's still too early for a relationship, but I'm confident in saying we're headed in that direction. If only Rye were hear to see us following her instructions.

Today's one of those days I really wish she was still around to talk to. I got an offer from a private firm. It's a very nice offer. I've tried the private practice thing and it didn't work for me then, but I've changed. I can't honestly say that I'm happy at JAG anymore. It's not my co-workers or our new commanding officer. I don't know what it is, but I do know Harm would be upset if I left. If she was here we could discuss it and maybe I wouldn't feel so torn.

Pushing the problem out of my mind, I sit on the couch with the day's mail in my lap. I toss the magazines and bills on the coffee table and pick up a heavy medium-sized box. I tear into the box and a thick hardcover book falls into my lap. I wince as the sharp corner digs into my thigh. A smile tugs at the corners of my lips when I read the book's title. _A Few Good Men & Women: A History of the U.S. Navy's JAG Corps_. The author is listed as anonymous, but I know this book. It's Rye's book.

When I open the book, a whiff of jasmine vanilla hits me. Tears fill my eyes when I read the dedication page. "All proceeds benefiting the Ryleigh Mackenzie Foundation – helping girls and women of all ages follow their dreams." In smaller print at the bottom in a very familiar handwriting, "Thank you for helping me be free, Sarah. I love you."

Suddenly the tears come and there's no way to stop them. I put the book aside and reach for the tissue box. Did she plan this before she died or has it been printed recently? I look through the book but there's nothing to indicate either way. Deciding it best to wait to read the book after I'm a little more composed, I turn my attention to the box. It's postmarked London but the return address is a P.O. box in New York. Peering into the box I find a folded piece of white note paper. It's a note from Ryleigh.

"So sis, when's the wedding? Oh no, don't give me that look. I know exactly how long it's been. Fine, fine, at least tell me everything's going all right with you and Harm.

By now I'm sure you figured out what happened. You always were too smart for anyone's good. I'm sorry it had to be this way. If I could do it all again, I would found a way to keep from hurting you. It's better this way, safer for you and everyone there.

You'll be happy to know I'm 100% cancer free. It was dicey for a while there, but we muddled through it. I wish you had been here. I missed you. I still miss you.

Harm's getting a letter similar to this one. I hope he doesn't hate me too much. It wasn't just about being free, you know. If I went back, I had to find a way to protect everyone I love. I couldn't bear for you to be pawns in some sicko's game.

Take care of your sailor, Sarah. Who knows, maybe we'll be seeing each other soon.

Don't worry about me; I'm happier than I've been in a long time. Free yourself; don't let yourself get trapped because it's what someone else wants you to do. In the end it will only make everyone miserable, trust me.

I love you,

Your younger and much more attractive sister."

I laugh and cry at the same time. It was almost like having a conversation with her. I understand better now why she had to do it. I don't like it, but I understand. Had I been in her position I would have done the same. Rereading the part about feeling trapped, I make a decision about the job offer. It's my life and my choice. Harm will just have to learn to deal. I mentally thank my friend for giving me just what I needed.

I reach for the phone to call the head of the firm when an idea hits me. I wonder how Harm will feel about honeymooning in London.


End file.
